


Deep Blue But You Painted Me Gold

by gaialux



Category: Nescafé Gold Blend Commercials
Genre: Coffee, F/M, First Time, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: Sharon comes to Tony's house, this time for a simple cup of coffee that turns into more.
Relationships: Sharon/Tony (Nescafé Gold Blend Commercials)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Deep Blue But You Painted Me Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DWEmma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DWEmma/gifts).



She came to the house again.

Of course, there was no pretence of a dinner party this time. She didn't even try to make up some sort of excuse. Simply stood by the door in a tight black dress, her hair loose and free like Tony had never seen it before. She smiled, ran her hand through the tresses, and said without further preamble, "Have any coffee?"

He did, of course.

"Never be without coffee or tea my father always told me," Tony said as he stood back and allowed Sharon into his house. It was messy and for that he was ashamed. Clothes from the past few days strewn over the sofa and dishes piled next to the sink. He always got around to cleaning, eventually, but it wasn't pencilled into a diary like he imagined Sharon had. She always seemed so exact and proper.

"Wise man," Sharon said.

She glanced around the small house, but quickly. Quickly enough Tony didn't feel as though she were judging him.

"Feel free to take a seat." He gestured to the clean, uncluttered portion of the sofa. "I'll pop the kettle on."

From the kitchen he could still see her. Smoothing her dress under her thighs as she lowered herself down. Crossing her legs at the ankles. It didn't matter how often they met or under what circumstances, Tony knew she was too good for him. A woman in a whole different league, a whole different universe, than Tony was used to inhabiting.

He spooned coffee into the mugs as the kettle started to boil and steam. One sugar for him; none for Sharon. He wondered if she was watching her figure or simply didn't have a sweet tooth. There was so much about this woman he needed to know more about. Her favourite food, favourite colour, her friends and family (he was not including the mortifying encounter with her brother), her wishes and dreams and hopes for the future. A lifetime to catch up on and--

The kettle clicked off. He was getting too ahead of himself.

"So how has your morning been?" he asked. It was only ten o'clock, the time when he was only just getting up on weekends. Enjoying that lay in while the sun seeped through his closed curtains, starting at his legs and rising to his eyes. It was fate, perhaps, that he got up to go for a run this morning. Dressed and ready for when Sharon decided to knock on his door.

"Oh, you know," Sharon said with a wave of her hand. She swivelled on the sofa to look at him, her long arm trailing along its back. A ray of sunlight caught the silver bangles on her wrist. "Nice to have a break from work."

Tony added a drop of creamer to both their mugs and stirred them, the black water becoming slightly murky. He took both mugs over to the sofa, handed one to Sharon, and sat down beside her with his own.

"I thought we might be beyond small talk," Tony said with a small smile, hidden behind his mug as he took a sip of the hot brew.

"Me too," Sharon said. She ran a hand through her hair and _god_ , if Tony didn't want to be the one doing that right now. "But it's true -- my weekends, despite how it may have seemed when you met me, are rather dull. I cook, I clean, I read."

"What do you like to read?"

That earnt him a smile. A dip forward of Sharon's head so she was closer to him. The smell of coffee and, perhaps cinnamon?, wafting from her skin. "Anything, really. Right now I'm reading an enjoyable Tom Clancy thriller."

"Ah!" Tony practically jumped out of his seat as he reached over to the end table beside the sofa and dropped between them a thick hardback book. "A lady after my own heart."

"That's an excellent read." Sharon ran her hand over the smooth black and white cover. "You have good taste."

He held up his mug. "I like to think so."

The smile Sharon gave him was blinding. It erased all the thoughts in Tony's head and made his heart thump so loud he was sure Sharon would make comment on it. She didn't. She drank her coffee and looked at the book and kept glancing up at him, now and then, through long black lashes. Should he put the television on? Scrounge up some snacks? He had friends over sure, often in fact, but unlike Sharon's fancy dinner parties, Tony's own social gatherings consisted more of beer and pizza ordered in.

"You're not going to ask why I showed up?" Sharon said after a long while.

"Assumed you ran out of coffee," Tony said.

"A rather weak excuse, don't you think?" She placed her mug on the coffee table in front of him, the one Tony's mother bought him years ago before he moved out of a home. He kept it, despite the pen smudges and gouges, the scuffs and chips, because it reminded him of where he started and where he now was. Because it felt like home.

Sharon leaned forward, then, and pressed her lips to his.

She tasted as she smelt: coffee and cinnamon. An intoxicating mix Tony found himself drowning in. He kissed her deeper, both hands wrapping around her back and feeling flesh through her dress. He found the skin of her neck, the tickle of her hair, the coolness of the silver necklace she had on that drooped low around her throat. He had to pull away, only to breathe, before diving right back in to her lips once more. How could he get so lucky?

They moved to his bedroom. A bedroom that truly needed a good tidy up with its pile of clothes _next to_ rather than _in_ the hamper. She didn't seem to notice and Tony quickly found himself not caring. Fumbling to the bed like teenagers on their first exploration until they found their rhythm. Lips on lips. Hands on everything. Tony couldn't get enough of her. He didn't think he ever would.

He entered her slow, not willing to let this moment be cut short by too much enthusiasm. He wanted to savour it, simmer in it, allow their bodies to become one. She cried out against him, legs wrapping around his waist and her hands flying behind her head. He could see so much of her this way. Her breasts, her hips, her neck, her belly. Each part as beautiful as the last. He found the parts of her that made her most cry out with want and need. His own body responding in kind.

"Tony," she said amongst all her other sounds: the moans, the sighs, the catches in her throat.

That was what did it for him, bliss spreading through his body and spilling out.

They stayed curled up against each other, her hair tickling his nose, as the sun rose further and the room heated up and Tony could not imagine anywhere else he would rather be.


End file.
